


Entropy

by Petersannoyingbeta



Series: Thermodynamics [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Awkward Boners, Awkward Sexual Situations, Bondage, Dubiously Consensual Blow Jobs, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Fear of Death, Ice Play, Like a ton of sarcasm, Lots of sarcasm, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Non-Consensual, Sarcasm, Urine, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2019-01-27 17:09:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12586656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Petersannoyingbeta/pseuds/Petersannoyingbeta
Summary: Erica is in heat. This time she escapes the house and Peter has to track her down. Fortunately for her, he finds her. Unfortunately for Stiles, so does he. Told mostly from Stiles ritalin-deficient brain.





	Entropy

**Author's Note:**

> Entropy ˈɛntrəpi/
> 
> noun
> 
> noun: entropy; plural noun: entropies; symbol: S  
> 1\. 1.  
> Physics  
> a thermodynamic quantity representing the unavailability of a system's thermal energy for conversion into mechanical work, often interpreted as the degree of disorder or randomness in the system.  
> "the second law of thermodynamics says that entropy always increases with time"  
> 2\. 2.  
> lack of order or predictability; gradual decline into disorder.  
> "a marketplace where entropy reigns supreme"
> 
> If you guys have any ideas on what I should write next, don't be afraid to let me know! :) Anyway, hope you enjoy.

**Entropy**

 

 

Clarity in heat wasn't Erica's strong point but Peter's defence she'd never really needed it. She'd never been in heat during a full moon before both luckily and unluckily for the others in the pack. In fact, Peter had rarely heard of such things before.

Normally heat fell in line with the natural reproduction system of the she-wolf in question, timesed in intensity by the number of viable wolves in the pack divided by the number of she-wolves, and it usually occurred, at the optimal time of the number of she-wolves. Most, if not all of the pack, went into heat at the same time.

That was why Peter never turned she-wolves if he could help it.

Of course it made family situations intensely awkward. He pushed away memories of Laura and Cora, awkwardly flirting with him and Derek and other members of the Hale pack. At least it wasn't so complicated in wolf society.

Still, Laura was out of the picture now and Cora was in another state. Some other Alpha's problem.

Speaking of problems however, Peter currently had no idea where the dratted wolf in heat was. She'd broken out last night during the full moon and he'd lost her sometime around the part where she'd clawed his face and he decided she was on her own. The Argents could find her. Fuck that noise.

But, he couldn't help himself. It was morning and he wondered where his dotting beta was. Of course he should have realised she wouldn't come home on her own she was too busy being a wanton slut.

Eh, maybe that was a little harsh, he decided. After all, it's not like she could help herself. Heat was a fickle mistress. But the problem was, if the Argents hadn't found her yet – and God help Chris if he had – then Beacon Hills would have to deal with her.

But he had no idea where to look. He'd just have to retrace his steps, and use his Alpha senses.

 

 

* * *

 

“Oh God.” Stiles was in trouble and he knew it. “Oh God. Oh God.”

Windows shut and curtains drawn, his door firmly locked, and you know, just a casual she-wolf in heat passed out in his bed.

 

“Oh God.” He muttered quietly to himself in a small, Stiles sized panic as he scrambled around trying to wolf proof his room and remember exactly what had happened last night.

He'd been half asleep. Scott was dealing with Liam and the full moon and something that he had decided he wasn't getting involved it. Because he is human and doesn't have a healing factor thank you very much Scott.

Something had crawled into his room. Something that climbed in through the open window and immediately began sniffing him. Something that wasn't a threat per say but immediately went down on him.

Oh dear God, he'd thought it was a dream.

His room was thoroughly wrecked. Not just wrecked in a “Malia had stayed” sort of way, but in a “Holy Jesus the apocalypse happened but just in your room, Stiles.”

Did he forget to mention he ached? His back burned – have to check that out later – his head ached with dehydration. _Was that a friction burn?_

Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God.

He ran his hands through his hair, trying to think. Come on, Stiles, you're the smart one you can do this. You can find a way to deal with Erica.

Okay, first of all, why was she in here? Why was she in his room? Second of all, was she in trouble?

Oh no, it was Peter wasn't it? Peter had set her up to this. Or worse, she was running away from him and if she chose Stiles? Yup, he was going to die here. In this room.

He opened his door and peered out.

“Dad?” He called out into the hallway. Silence. Something told him the house was empty. Something also told him it had been empty since she'd crawled in and that crazy dream had began. Had he left because of the noise? Because his son was having dangerous, violent, loud sex with a crazy werewolf? That was it. Stiles was going to die of embarrassment. Yep. He'd have to pack his belongings and skip town because he was never going to be able to look his father in the eye ever again.

“Mm, Alpha, come back to bed.”

Stiles heart leapt into his throat at the sound of her voice.

_I will die on this hill._

Erica rolled over in her sleep. Her beautiful, curly blonde hair was damp with sweat. Her body was glistening with sweat, her face was glowing with sweat. The smell that seemed to ooze from her every pore was incredible. It had him hard as a rock. That and the fear. Fear and arousal boner.

_Is there any other kind?_

Doesn't matter. How did he get rid of her before she woke up and before Peter- No, before anyone found her in his bed. Oh Scott would laugh. He would laugh so hard. Peter would turn his liver into breakfast. Erica – okay, given her mood last night she was probably going to have one hell of a hangover. Wait. No, werewolves couldn't get drunk so what was her deal?

Probably just really horny then. In which case, he was doubly dead. When she found out she'd had sex with him? Nope. Nope nope nope.

The bed sheets shuffled again, the toy box print on the duvet did not suit her.

A tiny whine of panic escaped his mouth. He'd frozen at the doorway, hand still on the door handle. He paused, wondering if he should run now.

He could see it now. They'd find him in a ditch in the woods. The brutal twin murder by Erica and Peter and possibly Derek. And every boy in Beacon Hill's high school that had ever liked Erica will be torn between horror and amusement and a mixture of jealousy and fear and they'd all have to deal with it for years.

And his Dad would get in trouble too, worrying about his son he'd end up challenging one of the wolves, in mourning over his son, and then he'd die.

Oh so many things to worry about.

“Erica?” Stiles said. There had to be a way to get out of this mess. He clambered into his pants, hopping around on one leg as he tried to get into them. “Erica. Lovely, pretty Erica. Are you okay? Do you need a glass of water? Is everything okay between you and Peter? Because that's a problem for-” He fell sideways into the door.

Erica sat up. Her eyes glistened with gold. There was a look on her face that Stiles couldn't quite decide scared him or turned him on.

“Morning.” She mewled, stretching wide. Her clothes remained scattered on the floor but she didn't seem to notice. The covers fell and so did Stiles' mouth.

“Oh God. Erica, you- you- y-you- the covers, you di- ahem.” He turned the opposite direction, glancing away, but Erica was already on her hands and knees, crawling towards him. Her hair covered her breasts in the most tormenting way. Stiles took a deep breath.

She was even more astoundingly pretty than he remembered.

“Mm, you're not Scott. But you smell like him.” She purred. “There's nothing like an Alpha, but there's no Alpha here.”

“E-Erica, it's me Stiles. Not Scott. Remember?”

“Stiles. He's not a wolf. He can't scratch that itch.” Erica giggled, and grabbed his ankle. She pulled him over and pinned him to the floor. Stiles yelped as his head hit the floor. Rattled, but no further injured, he babbled on as her mouth went for his. It took all his self-control to resist.

“Erica- you're not- you're not you!” He insisted, tilting his head to one side to escape her lips. “You're either drunk, or on drugs, or something.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and final captured his lips. Stiles moaned. She tasted amazing. Like he couldn't get enough. She was practically irresistible.

“Erica-” He muttered. His eyes closed. His hands wandered down her hips. Soft and silky smooth. “Erica, you have to stop this.”

Claws poked out of Erica's fingertips and danced scarily close to Stiles' face.

“Why?” She purred. “Why can't I enjoy myself?”

“Uh- uh... y- well, f-firstly, Peter would kill me. Then he might kill you. Then he'd kill a lot of people. He's really good at that.”

The claws trailed down Stiles' throat and he gasped in a mixture of panic and oh god, he didn't want to die this way. Dying because he was turning down sex. This wasn't how Stiles life worked. It just wasn't.

“You don't want to help me?” Erica's voice was breathy as she tugged on Stiles' boxers. Fangs and claws traced his boner and Stiles next “no” caught in his throat.

“You are the sexiest, scariest woman I've ever tried to not have sex with.” He grunted and she took him into her mouth. That terrifyingly slick mouth with sharp teeth and an equally dangerous tongue that- oh God.

And yep,that was definitely a fear boner. He gripped the carpet with one hand and pushed away the debris from beneath him with his other. He didn't feel quite brave enough to touch her yet, which was ridiculous as he was halfway down her throat. A throat that was deep enough she might just swallow him entirely because he felt like he was going to go any second and if he did it without warning she would eat him.

Not like “sexy” eat him. Like “eat his fucking liver” eat him.

He took a deep breath but it didn't work.

“Erica, you need to slow down.” He pulled away from her and she growled around his cock. Stiles whimpered but persisted. “You're a very sexy, scary woman, Erica. Anyone ever tell you that? Terrifyingly pretty and ah- Erica, don't lick there- I- ung!” Stiles' hand embedded in her hair as he fucking exploded into her mouth and, good God, she swallowed everything.

That was both hot and scary in each parts.

He extricated himself carefully from between her fangs. And those golden eyes scrutinised him with a fury only a she-wolf in heat could-

Oh fuck no.

“Erica- are you- are you in heat?”

Erica giggled senselessly, and Stiles felt the creep of guilt in his gut. She was one-hundred percent in heat.

“Okay, you crazy bitch. You need to go back to Peter and deal with this-” Erica grabbed his boner again, claws mere centimetres from his balls. Stiles voice went up an octave. “-but maybe not straight away.”

God the scent of her was making him delirious and possibly suicidal.

“You're not okay.” He said. “You're not in the right mind to have sex with someone. Your senses are y'know, out of it. Come on Erica, we'll get your clothes on and get you back to Peter.”

“No.” Erica growled in a voice that Stiles could not bring himself to reply too. He had a cold sweat growing. “I want you.”

“To eat or to have sex with, Erica? Because honestly at this point, I feel like you should just get it over with. You're very sexy and I know I want to but I really don't think you want to and-”

Stiles screamed as she stood up and grabbed him by the shoulder. With horrifyingly little effort the naked she-wolf hauled him back onto his bed and pinned him to it.

The view was amazing.

His own virility impressed even him but something told him it was the pheromones. He told her this.

“It's your pheromones, Erica. Are you sure you wouldn't like some ice water instead?”

His question was answered by her sliding down around his instantly hard cock and her wet heat saw him grunt in reply. His hands were on her waist. Sticky heat. He closed his eyes and she rode him. Pressure; squeezing him so tight, like she was wringing him dry, as she bounced up and down. How hard he had to focus on not blowing again instantly.

From the shrill moans, she was enjoying it too. Except this felt more like a means to an end. Like a toy. Did this count as consent? Dammit his mind was still in overdrive. How?

Erica grabbed his hands and Stiles panicked, flexing inside her in fear as he wondered if he'd done something wrong.

Maybe.

She pressed his hands down above his hand, flat against the pillow. He was thoroughly pinned. Well at least he didn't have to worry about his hands. Instead he focused on her breasts bouncing just above his face.

_If she kills me let this be the last thing I see. Please, God, you owe me that at least._

She bounced harder, the small bed creaking obnoxiously below them as she ground down hard against him. Still, Stiles was torn between fear and arousal and those wonderful breasts that tormented him just out of reach of his mouth. He caught one between his teeth and nipped it bravely.

The resulting moan made him twitch and he held his breath for a full minute before he regained control.

His thighs and lower abdomen were soaked with her fluids. He could feel her pubis grind forward against his stomach every time she slid down him. And so deep.

Somehow, he held it. Sweat soaked his forehead by the time she shuddered around him, squeezing him so tight he burst.

_Oh no._

And then. Bliss.

His entire body melted with his climax. She leant against him. Those nice, hot, breasts against his chest, and she peered down at him as he fought for his breath. His overthinking stopped. There was calm.

For a millisecond.

She heard Erica whine. Such a pretty whine. The whine of someone who didn't seem quite happy with how things had gone.

He came too.

Oh God, she was touching herself while he lay beside her. How on earth was she still going?

“Erica...” he panted. “Are you still-?

Seeing he was awake, Erica snarled and grabbed him again. Stiles yelped. He could feel tears fresh at his eyes.

“Erica. No, please. I can't! It's physically impossible to- help!”

“I'd like to say I'm surprised, Stiles. But since you're possibly the only one as pent up as her I think it's amazing she never found you last time.”

“Oh good. Twice the werewolves. Twice the crazy.” Stiles said without thinking because his brain had gone to sleep.

“Maybe. I'm surprised she hasn't killed you yet.”

“I'm surprised you haven't killed me yet.” Stiles quipped, well aware that he was naked and sticky and lying next to Peter's masturbating beta. Yes, this was his life now. For all that remained of it.

“We're all surprised I haven't killed you yet, Stiles. But since you're alive, I'll make you a deal.”

“I'm through making deals with the devil.” Stiles sat up.

“Cute. But this deal means I continue not killing you.”

“You're a shrewd wolf, Peter Hale, but I'm going to have to go with my gut and say I agree with the deal.”

“Clever boy. Now. Run downstairs and fetch yourself a drink, your father's handcuffs and all the ice cubes you have. Maybe some ointment for your back. Don't worry. The sheriff is not at home. I wouldn't have walked in so easily if he was.”

Stiles decided to do as he asked. It would give him time to think.

Peter hadn't killed him yet, so that was a good sign, he decided as he wandered down naked into the kitchen and chugged down half a pint of the orange juice in the fridge straight from the carton. Erica hadn't either but she was in heat so that was some divine intervention straight there. Either Peter had turned over a new leaf and decided to save him or he was trying to keep Scott off Erica's case. Or he genuinely liked Stiles now. That one was a hit or a miss. Peter constantly said he liked Stiles but he had the feeling it was more that he liked tormenting him. Now that he could believe.

He grabbed the ice cube tray from the freezer and swung it shut, heading into his father's study for the handcuffs.

After all, Peter was a weird one with weird tastes. And now he had two werewolves in his room that potentially wanted to kill him. That was just great. All he had to do was make sure he did what Peter wanted and then maybe he could keep some peace and quiet and survive.

Not that he was complaining. He'd just had the craziest, most petrifying sex of his small torturous life after all.

He grabbed the handcuffs and continued up to his bedroom. By the time he'd opened his bedroom door he had finally figured out he wasn't out of the woods yet.

_Haha. Woods. Like somewhere a wolf would go hunt. Oh help._

Part of him wondered if he should phone Scott. The other part knew Peter would break his phone before he pressed the call button and he liked his phone so he decided not to do that.

“I got them.” Stiles said weakly, closing his bedroom door. And, oh look, Erica was rubbing herself against his pillow.

That was pretty hot though.

Stiles bit back words as he grew visibly hard in front of Peter Hale. Peter made no effort not to stare and that wasn't embarrassing at all. Nope. Not at all.

“Good. You _can_ follow basic instructions. Won't your teachers be impressed with you, Stiles.” Peter took the handcuffs from Stiles and stroked Erica's burning forehead.

“You're a good beta, aren't you, girl?”

Erica beamed at him through half lidded eyes as he handcuffed her hands above her head. She lay back against the bed, pushing her chest up. Her cheeks was rosy and flush. Sexual or not, Stiles still thought she was beautiful. The curve of her hips, the rise of her breasts. It was completely aesthetic. And sexual too, couldn't help it; male. But not the point. Definitely not the point. What was the point? Oh, the ice cubes!

Peter grinned at them.

“Want to feed her one?”

Stiles did. He very much wanted to. But he also wanted to keep his fingers on his hands.

“Yes.” He said. Peter nodded.

“On you go. She's bound. She's not violent, just pent up.”

Stiles stepped tentatively towards her.

“Erica, would you like an ice cube?”

The blonde she-wolf nodded. Stiles looked at Peter who nodded. Stiles sat down on the edge of his bed and plucked up an ice cube. He found his bravery and ran it along Erica's dry lips. _Damn, she must be so thirsty._

She reached up and sucked the tiny melting cube from his fingers and swallowed it. She chased the drips that ran down his fingers and, oh, look at that, Stiles was rock hard again.

“Give her another.” Peter told him but Stiles had already grabbed the second cube. He ran it along her forehead to a breathy sigh from the beta wolf.

He watched just how much relief she seemed to get from the icy cubes and found himself invested.

“It's okay, Erica. I got you.” He said gently. He felt oddly protective. “Is she-? I mean, does she even know it's me?”

“I doubt it.” Peter said bluntly. “She knows her Alpha. Naturally. But you're not a wolf. Chances are, right now, you're either nothing to her or she thinks you're Scott.” He rolled his eyes.

“Oh.” Stiles couldn't help the slight disappointment. Even so, he couldn't help but press the ice cubes to her nipples. His eyes bugged out as he watched the stiff peaks grow impossibly tight and glisten. He wanted to suck them.

It didn't matter that Peter was there. He couldn't help himself. Bound, she was less of a threat. He bent down and took her left breast in his mouth. He tongued the nipple and felt her shake beneath him. The guttural groan that escaped her mouth sent ripples of arousal through him. Such a pretty sound. The scent of her skin, though wet with her sweat was almost sweet. Like a dusty sherbet that he buried his nose into. Peter pressed his hand against Stiles' neck and the boy froze.

_Oh no. What now?_

But Peter only took the ice cubes from him and popped it into his mouth. He sucked it for a moment and then kneeled down. He kissed Erica, slipping the melting cube into her mouth with his tongue. Erica moaned into Peter's mouth.

Stiles bit his lip.

“I want to-”

“No.” Peter said firmly and that was the end of that train of thought. “Get up on the bed.”

Stiles clambered further onto his bed and Peter helped Erica up into a kneeling position.

“No. Lie down. You're going to take her from the front.”

Stiles didn't quite have the strength to argue. “And you-”

“I'm going to take her from behind.”

Stiles nodded dumbly. The ever present fear that he was going to die flared up again as Erica's golden beta eyes landed on his and she bared her fangs. He lay down, feeling crazy.

Erica didn't need coaxing. As Peter's hands left her she instinctively slipped down onto Stiles swollen, and slightly sore, erection once again. Stiles moans caught in his throat.

He was having sex with Erica, with Peter in the room. Yep.

Maybe this was a really weird sex dream.

Maybe.

Erica's elbows were either side of his head, propping her up and she rose her ass up and down. In seconds, Peter snarled and kicked his jeans off. Stiles had to admit that was fucking terrifying too. He couldn't see it, but he couldn't fully imagine as Peter lined himself up with Erica.

“What are you doing back there?”

“Nothing that concerns you.” Peter drawled making Stiles even more concerned. The drip of icy water against his pubic hair and the howling, hitching, moans from Erica confirmed that he was using the ice cubes to- Erica jerked and gasped breathily.

“Oops.” Peter chuckled.

“What was that?” Stiles panicked.

“She sucked an ice cube into her ass. Oh- and another.”

“Don't make her angry!” Stiles yelped. It's not like he could fight her off.

“Shut up.” Peter snapped. “Or the next one is yours.”

Stiles promptly shut up.

A few moments later Peter rose above both he and Erica on the bed. He knelt above them and pressed his hands tight to Erica's hips. He pulled her up and back upon him.

“Easy, my dear. Easy.”

Stiles felt the moment he entered Erica's ass. He felt the tightness grow and she was squeezed and filled from behind and in front. Erica's soft moans turned to “oooh”s that much breathier than before. She froze, as though paralysed by her fullness. Stiles thought he caught the glimmer of tears through her scrunched up eyelids.

“She's beautiful.” He muttered, accidentally aloud. He finally let his hands rise to her hips and thrusted slowly. He wanted to prolong the moment.

Peter's hands tried to her breasts, rolling and teasing nipples that looked hard enough to cut glass. Stiles' eyes were glued to the scene. He could feel Peters slow long thrusts and wondered, secretly, how Erica must feel.

_What must it be like? To be so full? To be stretched so fully. To be completely-_

His thoughts were disturbed as the tightness grew even more. Erica squealed. A tiny sob but the tears were rolling now.

“Dear thing.” Peter said carelessly and ran his tongue along her jaw. “You can do it. Take me all.”

“Peter, you-”

“It's a knot, Stiles. Shut up and enjoy the best sex you'll ever get.”

“You don't know that.”

“Yes, I do. So shut up.” Peter growled. Erica growled. Stiles shut up wondering if a knot was what he thought it was.

“Take me all in, Erica. You're doing so well.” Peter thrust harder. The bulb that pressed through Erica's inner walls squeezed Stiles so hard it almost hurt. Erica sobbed.

“Alphaaaa.” She moaned. Her hips shuddered and she came.

“Oh fuck.” Stiles clenched his teeth, and he might have managed to hold himself. Had Erica not pissed herself. The fullness had pressed against her bladder and squeezed her out. The she-wolf's pissed trickled down upon Stiles and it broke him. Stiles' brain turned to mush and he lined her insides with hot wet cum. Once started, Erica couldn't stop. She soaked him. The yellow acrid scent of her marking him rose into the air around them. Stiles felt half in a daze as she sobs, wails, and the piss still comes and comes and comes. Time seems to go on forever as she soaks the bed sheets and the poor teenage boy beneath her.

It was both horrible and wonderfully sexual. The blonde had completely lost control.

For a brief moment, Stiles thought he understand what it was like to be like Peter. To want the control over someone.

But Erica wasn't done. It was Stiles' time to moan in pain and she squeezed tighter. Tight enough to keep him hard and she ground on. Peter was well and truly knotted in her ass, but she bounced up and down on him, wrenching out another, dry, orgasm from the teenager. Stiles head juddered back in his release and smacked hard against the headboard.

He was out like a light.

 

* * *

 

 

When Peter finally stopped laughing, and he'd worked his own release, he redressed both himself and his Beta. He took the back roads home while Erica dosed in the back seat and drove slowly, enjoying the lull.

He left Stiles. He could clean up his own damn mess. Choice or no, he fucked his beta while she was un-consenting. Only Peter got to do that.

He was keeping the handcuffs though.

 


End file.
